Lying in Wait
by RosieAnnieUSA
Summary: Written for a challenge


Hannibal Heyes was tired. Bone-crushingly, mind-numbingly, tired. The only creature in the whole wide world more tired than him, he figured, might be his horse. At least he, Heyes, got to ride, but the poor animal had to carry a man on his back. Any other time, Heyes would probably just pack it in somewhere at the side of the road, and get some well-needed rest for both man and beast. This time, he was only a few miles away from the mining camp where he was supposed to meet Kid Curry. He figured both him and the horse could hold out a little while longer, especially since there'd be all the comforts of civilization there. Well, he reminded himself, some of the comforts. Wait For It, Nevada, and the town that was growing up around it, could never be confused with San Francisco. But even Wait For It had hotels, restaurants, stables, and saloons. Heyes tried to explain all this to the horse, but the horse seemed unimpressed.

It wasn't long before the lights on the town were visible in the growing dusk. Heyes reached over to pat the horse's warm neck.

"Look up there, boy. That's where we're going. Just stay with me a little while longer, and I'll get you a warm stable and lots of oats. And maybe, if you're lucky, there'll be a little filly there, too."

The horse swung his head around to look at Heyes.

"No, really," Heyes said. "Just you wait and see."

The horse snorted. He'd heard it all before.

Heyes smiled and stroked the broad neck again. So much for the old silver tongue! As they got closer to the town, both Heyes and his mount perked up a bit.

Wait For It was bigger and busier than Heyes had expected. The wooden sidewalks were crowded. Even the dusty street had so much traffic that Heyes had to guide his horse cautiously.

He saw a large hotel alongside the town square. That was as good a place as any to look for Kid. Besides, his behind felt like it was permanently molded to his saddle. It would feel good to walk a bit.

Dismounting, he stretched his stiff back and looked at the sign swinging over the hotel entrance. "Welcome to The Patience Hotel." Somebody had a sense of humor.

A stout fifty-ish woman stood behind the ornate reception desk. Heyes was all too aware of his appearance and hoped she wouldn't hold it against him. She glanced up and frowned. Heyes put on his biggest brightest smile and hoped she liked dimples.

"Stop right there, cowboy. Unless you're with the Gathering and have a reservation, you might as well head right out that door."

"No reservation, ma'am" – she sighed, and slammed the registration book closed – "and, I don't know about any gathering, but my partner may already be registered here. He's expecting me."

The clerk pushed glasses further up her nose. "Name?"

"His name is Thaddeus Jones, ma'am."

Suddenly she smiled. "Oh, you're with Thaddeus! He's expecting you." The frown reappeared. "You're very late. He's been worried about you."

Relieved, Heyes rested both hands on the reception desk. "Yes ma'am. Sorry ma'am. It's been a rough couple of weeks."

"Yes, well. Be that as it may." She opened the book again. "Sign in here." Doubt flickered across her face. "You can write, can't you?"

"Yes ma'am, I sure can. Not so's you can read it, but I can write."

"Never mind. I'll do it for you." She was writing before he could do anything. When she finished, she turned the book around so he could see. "There. Is that readable?"

In big bold letters that would make John Hancock proud, she had written "HANNIBAL HEYES." Heyes felt his face get red. The shock left him speechless for almost five seconds.

"No, it's not right! My name is Joshua Smith!"

Incredibly, she was laughing. "Oh lighten up, Mr. Smith! It's all in the spirit of the Gathering. There are already two other Hannibal Heyes' in town. Seemed fitting, since Thaddeus is Kid Curry. Why don't you just pick up your jaw and sign your name."

Heyes took some deep breaths and forced a smile. "Whatever you say, ma'am." He looked around the room quickly. Nobody was paying any attention to their conversation, and there was no sign of the sheriff. As she handed Heyes the key, he thought of something else she'd said.

"Ma'am, you've mentioned the gathering twice now. What exactly are you talking about?" He prayed, silently, that it wasn't a convention of retired federal marshals.

"First things first, Mr. Smith. I'm Mrs. Albertson, and I manage The Patience Hotel. I'll have a bath sent up for you right away. If you don't mind my saying so, you need it. And you probably have a horse needs tending?" Heyes nodded. "Thought so. Probably run him down trying to get here, I'll bet." Heyes opened his mouth to speak, but she was too quick for him. "All you youngsters are alike, in a big hurry to get somewhere. Well, no matter. I think Thaddeus is upstairs right now. He's having a wonderful time at the gathering.

"Anyway. The Gathering. It's the cowboy poets come here, first time in our town. This place is a natural fit for them, if you ask me. Because of the name, and what they do. They're storytellers, don't you know. And now we're getting all the tourists. That's why we're full up, Lucky for you Thaddeus got here early."

"Lucky for me, indeed, Mrs. Albertson. Just one more question. . . why is this place a perfect fit for cowboy poets?"

"Why, the name of our town, Mr. Smith. Wait For It. The poets say lying is their trade. That's why they're calling this gathering 'Lying in Wait.'"

Heyes dragged himself up the stairs. His natural caution was urging him to run from Wait For It as fast as he could. His aching body, and his curiosity, were stronger. He paused outside his room. He could hear snoring through the door. Kid clearly wasn't losing any sleep. Heyes rapped on the door three times, loudly. He heard a loud cough and then bedsprings creaking.

"Who is it?" Kid called.

"It's me, Thaddeus." He unlocked the door and swung it open. Kid was sitting on the side of his bed, rubbing sleep from his face. Heyes stepped in, pushing the door shut and dropping his saddlebags on the floor.

"About time you got here, Heyes. I was just about to go looking for you."

Heyes looked at the rumbled bed coverings and his half-dressed partner. "Yeah, you look like you're about to ride out of here." He crossed over to the second bed and sat down.

Curry focused on his partner. Underneath a three-day growth of beard, Heyes looked thin and pale.

"You don't look so good, Heyes. You alright?"

"Uh huh. Well, I was till I got here and Mrs. Albertson signed me into the register as Hannibal Heyes. And then told me that was okay, since you were Kid Curry. That just about stopped my heart right there."

"Don't worry about it, Heyes. They got this big gathering of cowboy poets going on in this town."

"She told me about that. I never heard of cowboy poets before. Unless we're talking about that easterner who used to recite Shakespeare to the cattle on those drives from Texas."

"Sheesh, I forgot about him. He sure was a strange one."

Heyes was pulling his boots off.

"So tell me why we shouldn't be leaving town right now."

"You're not the only Hannibal Heyes in town."

"So I heard."

"Yeah. I've met two already. Understand there's a couple more. They all fit the description on your wanted poster, by the way."

"Must be some good-looking men." Heyes lay down cautiously, halfway expecting a loose spring to poke him, but the mattress was thick and soft. Real fine. He yawned.

"Don't go to sleep just yet. I ain't letting you stay here until you take a bath. You stink, partner."

"Mrs. Albertson agrees with you. She's sending one up."

"Good. Just try to stay awake. I don't want to find you drowned in the bathtub.

"If I do, Kid, you can replace me with one of the other Heyes' in town." Heyes sighed and closed his eyes. Kid watched Heyes' breathing get deeper and slower.

"I'll let you know when the bath gets here, Heyes." Heyes answered with a soft snore.

Heyes got a solid hour of sleep before the bath arrived. Kid decided to check on Heyes' horse and give his partner some privacy to get cleaned and shaved. When Kid got back, Heyes was buttoning his shirt.

"You're looking better, partner," Curry said.

"Feeling better, too. Now all I need is a drink, followed by a good meal, followed by a few more drinks."

Curry sprawled out in the armchair. "Well, this is the place to do it. Town's full of visitors, and half of them are claiming to be some famous outlaw."

Heyes frowned. "Any famous sheriffs?"

"Sure," Curry said. "I've met several of the Earps. More Wyatts than Morgans or Virgils. They're talking about doing the O.K. Corral shoot-out for the tourists, but they can't figure out the best Doc Holliday."

"Tell me you're making this stuff up, Kid."

Curry shook his head. "No, Heyes, it's for real. Fact is, they're probably going to have the O.K. Corral shoot-out a few times, because so many people want to get shot by Wyatt Earp."

Heyes' jaw dropped.

"You better shut that thing before you swallow some flies, Heyes."

Heyes complied.

"Kid, this is the craziest thing I've ever heard. What about the sheriff in this town? Ain't he watching everyone close, in case a real crook shows up?"

Kid grinned. "Heyes, this place is just an overgrown mining camp, remember? It ain't Tombstone. There is no sheriff here."

A slow smile spread over Heyes' face. The dimples appeared and got deeper. The partners looked at each other, and both men started to laugh.

"Kid," Heyes said, "How long is this thing going to go on?"

"Through the weekend, Heyes. That gives us a couple more days to relax here, maybe play some poker. I got to introduce you to Bill Hickok. The man plays poker like he's got too much money, and he'll do anything to get rid of it."

"Bill Hickok, huh? So long as nobody draws a hand of aces and eights, I suppose that's alright."

"That's for sure!" Heyes reached for his gun belt and buckled it on.

"And you're already known to be Kid Curry. You think that's wise?"

Curry shrugged. "Wasn't my idea. One of the Heyes' asked me to be his Curry. Since you weren't around, I figured you wouldn't mind. Anyway, that guy's already found another Curry or two. Town's lousy with people pretending to be us. We'll blend in just fine."

Heyes took his hat off the rack and swatted it against the wall a couple times, trying not to cough in the dust cloud that was released. He saw Curry's expression.

"Don't say it, Kid. My hat's perfectly fine."

"Did I say anything, Heyes?"

Heyes was almost out the door when Curry stopped him.

"Heyes, ah. . . .there's one more thing I should tell you."

"Oh no. I know that look. What is it?"

"Now don't be like that, Heyes. It's just that . . . you can't let anybody say you're Hannibal Heyes."

Heyes was surprised. "Not that I was planning to, but why not?"

"Because I already told some folks you'd be playing another role."

"Another role?" Kid nodded. "Alright. Who am I supposed to be?"

"Wheat."


End file.
